


not mad, not mad sweet heaven

by wildandwhirlingwords



Category: The Hunger Games
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2153424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildandwhirlingwords/pseuds/wildandwhirlingwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie names her newborn son, much to the shock of those around her. The title is a quote from 'King Lear' and as such belongs to William Shakespeare. All else belongs to Suzanne Collins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not mad, not mad sweet heaven

**not mad, not mad, sweet heaven**

 

They called her mad.

They called her mad anyway; she was mad. They thought it was the madness talking, they thought it was the madness within her when they heard the first word to fall from her lips when they laid him in her arms.

He blinked slowly up at her and she smiled dazedly, running one finger along his smooth cheek, utterly, utterly captivated. His eyes were the same colour as Finnick’s already, that intense sea-on-a-summer’s-day green that it was so easy to lose yourself in.

But it wasn’t “Finnick” that she said aloud, although it was Finnick on her mind; in the weak sunlight that streamed through the window and slanted across the bed, their son’s scant hair looked as bronze as Finnick’s had been, his face was shaped the same, his nose…It was only his pale skin that he had inherited from his mother.

But she could not call him Finnick. She could not abandon him in his father’s shadow to stir up grief every time she called to him. She wanted to name him for new beginnings – the very thing Finnick had died to give them.

His lips puckered and stretched out into a yawn and she smiled, though tears were rolling down her face. Finnick had not known. He would never know now. But their son would know him; he would know of his father’s bravery, of his sacrifice, and thanks to that, their son would be safe.

She named him for new beginnings. She named him for the man who had ruined her life, and taken Finnick’s.

They called her mad, because they did not understand. They did not understand that it was not through a lifetime spent in mourning, with better hatred festering in her heart – in all their hearts – but a life of peace and learning to forgive that would bring about the change that they all wanted to see.

So she let them. She let them call her mad, because their whisperings meant nothing compared to the miracle in her arms –

“Coriolanus.” 


End file.
